


Wrap My Thoughts Around Your Little Finger

by TriadicUniverse



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Age Difference, Bondage, Chains, F/M, Face-Fucking, Gags, Imprisonment, M/M, Manipulation, Minor Character Death, Multi, Sexual Slavery, Slavery, Stockholm Syndrome, unequal power dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-06-07 10:38:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15217364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TriadicUniverse/pseuds/TriadicUniverse
Summary: HIC gets her claws on the Sufferer's descendant, and decides to keep him as a sex slave instead of killing him. Karkat is massively out of his depth, kept captive by a troll he's always respected; when he breaks, he breaks hard, and by the time Dave comes to his rescue, he's nothing but an obedient toy for his Mistress. Will Dave get his boyfriend back? Or will the Condesce get another toy to play with?





	1. The Upstarts' Descendants

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rag](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rag/gifts).



> Mind the tags. All characters are of age. This is darker than my normal flavor, but I had an excellent time writing this.

The last thing Her Imperious Condescension expected to see in this absurd corner of reality was a familiar face. She had watched countless trolls and humans live and die over the eons, and yet she would never forget this one. As she stared into the face of this terrified young troll she saw a ghost with a round face, blunt horns, and eyes the most vivid red. His eyes had barely filled in, but his color was plain to see as a thin ring around his pupils. If they didn’t do the job of broadcasting the unnatural red of his blood, the pale pink tears leaking from his eyes would. He was weeping, sprawled out on the ground, held down by her foot on his chest and his arm pinned between the prongs of her 2x3dent. He was babbling, pleas for mercy, pleas for rescue; over and over he sobbed out a human name, “Dave.” A loved one he would never see again.

The Condesce could have killed him in any number of gruesome ways, smearing his foul blood across the Medium. Then again, she had already orchestrated the death of one mutant in her long life. Why not keep things from getting boring? A plan was formulating in her mind, cruel and organic, growing from one seed of inspiration; the hideous little mutant was awfully pretty when he groveled.

Once she bullied his name out of him, Karkat didn’t struggle as she dragged him back to her palace on Derse. It wasn’t as luxurious and perfectly gaudy as her many hivecastles and battleships back home, but it was a perfectly acceptable palace, as far as palaces went. By the time she reached the royal suite, the volume of Karkat’s sobs had decreased, but tears continued to leak from his eyes. When he spoke, his voice quavered like a grub’s, which he might as well have been compared to her.

“Listen, your Highness, your most horrifying Batterbitchiness, I know that everything that dribbles out of my mouth hole is the most vile sludge that ever escaped a gaping orifice, and you’re understandably not ever going to listen to a word I say, but if it’s not too much to ask would you please just kill me and get it over with?”

“Nah,” The Condesce said. She tossed him onto her magnificent plush bed. He bounced once, then tumbled onto his ass on the purple sheets, mouth agape. His dumbstruck expression made her chuckle, although not as much as his reaction when he found out just what she had planned for him. Breaking that fuddy duddy preacher had been surprisingly, infuriatingly difficult, but the Condesce was quickly realizing that this would be so easy.

“Oh god oh fuck oh god,” he chanted like a prayer as she stripped out of her bodysuit and crawled onto the bed. Her claws hooked in his clothes and shredded them like they were made of spiderwebs. Before her was a body just out of its adult molt, all tar-black skin and wriggler fat that he would probably never outgrow. Karkat was shivering, her hands leaving trails of raised bumps over his skin, and not just because of the cold. His mantra continued, growing high-pitched and even more colorful as she explored him, savoring him like the tasty morsel he was.

Karkat hid his face in his hands as Her Imperious Condescension spread his legs and let her bulge wriggle into his nook. That wouldn’t do at all. She seized his wrists and held them down against the bed in a grip stronger than any chain. She was able to take in his wide eyes and parted lips as her bulge pressed into him, spreading him wider than anything else had before her. He winced and whined, but she was already going more slowly than she’d like. She didn’t want to break her lovely new toy, but her patience did have its limits. Her pets were to be enjoyed, not coddled, something that this one would have to learn.

He already knew his place. It was written into the foundations of his thoughts that he was the lowest of slime, not just worthless, but an aberration; that for him to exist was to commit a wrong against every other troll that had wriggled out of the brooding caverns. He also knew that she was quite the opposite. She was the highest one could be without ascending to the rank of divine; her value was greater than that of Alternia’s vast, dead empire, because she had MADE the empire, willed it into being and shaped it in her image. Her will, her commands were the ground on which Alternia had taken form, and she was as glorious in person as befitted one of her unparalleled prestige.

Long before she had known of his existence, Karkat Vantas had dreamed of submitting to her. Her Imperious Condescension was delighted when she discovered this. “Where did those scars come from, babycakes?” she asked, and even as she mocked him for ever having such a silly fantasy, even as a child, she encouraged him for the rightful subservience he had envisioned. Praise was given sparingly, but more than he deserved, like he was a dog at her feet begging for scraps, and he devoured each one like it was all that made his life worthwhile.

She was almost becoming fond of him, the Condesce realized one night, while she lounged in a rare moment of rest, her plaything curled up beside her. His muscles were tense; he was not yet used to touching her, being touched by her. Her pet was a hilariously open book; he broadcasted his thoughts just as clearly on his face as when he was shouting them. She knew, then, that his feelings about her were deeply mixed. Part of him was repulsed by her, longing for his old life. There was something that he missed, something that he still clung to. That part would have to be stamped out. Even now it was barely hanging by a thread, but the little bootlicker was surprisingly tenacious. There was a part of him that was in awe of her, had always been in awe of her. Not just her blood, but all that she had accomplished; the eons she had spent shaping her Empire and ruling it with a perfectly manicured iron fist. He had always respected her, and she had lovingly cultivated that respect until he couldn’t help but desperately want to please her. Then there was a small, but growing part of him that loved her. That was brand new, a creation of her very own. His worship of her had helped, but the adoration had been brought on by crushing despair, the knowledge that his new life revolved around her; she had snatched him up like a pretty treasure, and without her he had nothing. Slowly but surely, he was learning that this was how it should be.

“Who’s a good buoy?” the Condesce said, her voice saccharine in a way that was never heard outside the royal suite, never heard by anyone but him. Her claws scratched delicately at his scalp, brushing through his wiry hair.

“Not fucking me, that’s for sure,” Karkat said, his voice acidic, and the Condesce had to decide whether or not to punish him. Taming his sharp tongue was a chore, one that she had not yet completed to her satisfaction. Still, it didn’t hurt for him to stay humble. She’d allow it this time. Her lips twisted into a wry smile.

“Little shit,” she said fondly. “Ya too cute to be pissed at.” That was blatantly untrue. Even if she wasn’t upset with him now, that would change the second he put a toe over the line, and he knew it. What was important was how much he believed he deserved it.

He was being so good right now, however. Even conflicted and uncomfortable, Karkat was warm and soft against his mistress’s side. One arm draped loosely over her waist, too tense to be casual, but a valiant effort nonetheless. His face was pressed against her side, as if he could hide there, but there was nowhere now that he could hide from her. He was vulnerable to her in every way, a toy for her to play with and prod at, to take apart and put back together just the way she wanted. He was a work in progress, but the process was almost as fun as the finished product. At least this way it was a long time before she would grow tired of him. As long as he was entertaining to her, Karkat would be allowed to live, and he was learning what a generous and undeserved gift that was.

She gave him another gift, then, rolling over on her side so that his face was buried in her cleavage. She gripped his leg and hitched it over her thigh, and with a roll of her hips she ground her sheath up against his plush nook. It was the one part of him in which she could find no fault, unnatural color be damned. To his credit, Karkat only went tense and hesitant for a moment before he slipped a hand between them, hot, callused little hands teasing the tip of her bulge.

“Good buoy,” she said again, her voice a luxuriant purr, her thoughts reaching into his, bending them to her will. This time, he didn’t argue.

It didn’t take long for Karkat to grow accustomed to his new life, and as the months passed, he sank so deep he could barely remember why he had ever wanted anything else. His mistress draped him in finery while making sure he remembered that he didn’t really deserve it. She doted on him, always reminding him that she was the star around which he orbited, and she was so, so generous for allowing him to bask in her presence.

He rarely left her bed nowadays, and never left the royal suite. He didn’t need to; this was where she wanted him, and there was nothing for him outside of his Mistress’s desires. As far as he was concerned, the universe outside was empty and bleak. Even if there was something, or someone, distantly, that he longed for, there was nothing worthwhile, nothing that compared to his glorious Empress.

He was on her bed now, dressed (although dressed might have been too strong a word) in something sheer and silky that did nothing to hide the curves of his body. His ears, nose, and tongue glittered with jewelry, and the delicate chains fastening his wrists to the bed were naturally made of solid gold. He hated being left alone, but that just meant he was so much happier to see his Mistress when she returned. He knew, distantly, that she had made enemies of a whole pantheon of gods who were the source of no end of trouble, but it was not his place to worry about things like that.

“Mama’s home,” she said, larger than life as she stepped through the door. It was a little joke, a jab at a dead culture. He didn’t care to think about what a ‘Mama’ was, much less think of her as one. She was already his Mistress, his Empress, the shining star at the center of his universe, and that was enough.

She captchalogued her 2x3dent and made her way across the room, discarding jewelry as she went and leaving a golden trail in her wake. When she stood before the foot of the bed, she gripped the zipper of her bodysuit and dragged it downward, exposing an expanse of glossy black skin.

Karkat stretched toward her as far as her chains would allow, craving her touch, her attention. “About damn time,” he said. The bite of his words entertained her, and so she refrained from training it out of him entirely.

“Don’t get fresh with me now, ya know I’m busea,” she said, reaching out to tap a bejeweled pink claw against his lips. He purred at the simple touch, so desperate, so eager to please. He opened his mouth to wrap his lips around her extended finger, but she drew it back before he had the chance.

The Condesce shrugged and shimmied out of her bodysuit, and Karkat licked his lips at the sight of her. She was beautiful; one didn’t have to be a broken plaything to admit that. Her skin was black as the night sky, dotted with pale pink freckles that glowed faintly in the dim Dersite suite. This was a sight that only Karkat ever got to see, and he was in awe of the privilege. He didn’t deserve it, he knew. Back on Alternia, she would have countless slaves attending to her, soothing the stress of ruling. But Alternia was destroyed, and even the Empress’s options were rather slim. He would have to do.

She crawled onto the bed, drawing a gasp out of Karkat as she closed the distance between them. Her lips curled into a smile, then pursed as they met his in a kiss, deceptively sweet. He melted against her, his blunt teeth nibbling against her lower lip, his mouth parting obediently at the press of her tongue. She licked into his mouth, leisurely and slow, as if she had all the time in the world. As far as she was concerned, she could take all the time she pleased.

She planted a hand against his chest and shoved him back onto the bed. He found himself staring breathlessly at the ceiling, his legs spread and arms draped lazily above his head. The filmy fabric wrapped around him did little to hide his nook, swollen and flushed, and the tip of his bulge peeking out of its sheath. He was such a well-trained pet, so riled up by the mere presence of his Mistress. She rewarded him by tracing the pads of her fingers over the lips of his nook, then teasing the hot red tip of his bulge. His hips moved of their own accord, and a heated “Yes!” was teased out of him.

“Alwaves did love comin’ hive to such an eager li’l treat,” she said. “Tell me how much you want me.”

“Fuck, Mistress, I need you,” Karkat said, and indeed probably would have said without being prompted. “I hate being alone without you, I miss you so much when you’re gone. All day I’m alone with nothing to do but wait for you to come hive and stuff my nook.”

“Don’t complain,” she said, only half-teasing. Karkat’s mouth snapped shut. “Ya lucky to be in my bed atoll. Don’t got any proper slaves, but I got you, so you shouldn’t complain.”

“Of course, Mistress,” he said. “Sorry, Mistress. This always fucking happens. My mouth has got to be the worst part of me, and let’s be honest, that’s a contest. Someone give my mouth a medal for being the worst of the worst, the shittiest part of my impressively shitty body. You really should just keep me gagged, Mistress, that way I can’t shoot off and get myself into trouble like that.” Of course, he couldn’t make demands like that, but his little outburst was funny enough that she wouldn’t punish him for it.

“Nah, I got somefin else I wanna stuff ya mouth with,” she said, and despite himself, Karkat’s expression brightened. His clever little tongue darted out to wet his lips. Who could blame the Condesce for being torn, if only for a moment, between his mouth and his hot little nook? Both had proven themselves as devilishly effective methods of stress relief, and her bulge ached for either one.

Before she could decide, there was a commotion outside, a frantic knock at the door. The Empress’s expression shifted from eager contemplation to blinding rage. Karkat winced, despite knowing it wasn’t directed at him. He didn’t envy the poor fucker on the other side of the door.

She didn’t bother to get dressed, although she did equip her weapon as she stormed across the room. She threw the door open and drove the prongs of her 2x3dent into the thorax of the Dersite who had interrupted her. Then she turned to the one beside him, looming in all her naked glory, her weapon bloodied and embedded in a still twitching body. Karkat almost admired the second carapacian’s guts as they leaned in to murmur the reason for the interruption. The Condesce’s growl grew louder until Karkat could feel his bones shake, and the carapacian scurried away.

Karkat desperately hoped that whatever it was was not urgent, and his heart sank into his abdomen when his Mistress snapped her fingers at the wardrobifier and was quickly dressed. “Don’t go,” he said, cute and desperate enough that she would excuse his boldness.

“I gotta,” she said. “Sorry bayby, ya gonna have to sit tight.” She blew a kiss, and then she was gone.

Karkat wondered if he was pathetic enough to cry about it. At the very least, he curled into a miserable lump on the bed and began to sniffle. Something was happening outside, loud enough to be heard through the window, but he paid it no mind. He didn’t care about anything that wasn’t his Mistress returning to play with him, the only thing in this vast, cold universe that he found worthwhile.

Or so he thought. The window shattered, and in flew a god. Karkat was not the same person he had been when the Condesce found him, but he was not too far gone not to recognize Dave, his sword bloodied, his expression shifting wildly between relief, anger, love, and horror. Before he could settle on just one, he flew across the room and tackled Karkat to the bed in a frantic hug. Karkat threw his arms around Dave, laughing and sniveling as the love of his life planted kisses on his nose and cheeks. Dave squeezed Karkat tight, as if trying to make up for months of sleeping alone, of having no one to hold and touch, but he didn’t delay long. He pulled away, his face suddenly serious.

“We’re gettin’ you out of here,” he said. “The others are makin’ a distraction, but we gotta move.” He disentangled from the hug, which was easier said than done, given that neither of them wanted to let go. But he managed, and with two sweeps of his sword, Karkat’s chains fell empty to the bed.

That was when Karkat began to have second thoughts. “Wait wait wait,” he said. “I can’t just leave.”

“Sure you can,” Dave said, his voice artificially light. “In fact, you can leave right now. It’s a long drop out there but don’t worry, I’ll carry you, just hold on to me and we’ll get out of the Batterwitch’s nasty-ass rat’s nest she calls hair.”

“Don’t talk about her like that,” Karkat said. He didn’t know what to do, he felt like he was drowning, but that offense was smaller, easier to address. “Her Imperious Condescension deserves our respect.”

“What? Dude,” Dave said, sputtering, but he didn’t dare stick around long to argue. “Fine, let’s get out of Her Imperious Condescension’s nasty-ass rat’s nest she calls hair. Here, come on.” He held out his arms, but Karkat shrank back and away from him.

“Dave, you don’t understand!” he said. That, at least, was true. “She’s the _Empress_ , I have to serve her. I can’t leave.”

Dave’s eyebrows furrowed, but before he could even begin to unpack that, the door slammed open, hard enough that it left cracks where it hit the wall. There was the Empress, her teeth bared, her eyes ablaze.

Dave didn’t wait for her to get her bearings. He gripped his sword and lunged, almost too fast to see, but her reflexes were honed from eons of violence. The Knight’s sword collided with her 2x3dent rather than her flesh, and Dave leaped back, preparing another attack.

He would do nothing of the sort. The Condesce snapped her fingers at Karkat and called him close. He didn’t hesitate to leap into her arms. Terror at what would happen to his beloved human mingled with the relief of a pet being greeted by his Mistress, but it wasn’t his place to worry about that anymore.

Dave wrinkled his nose in disgust as the Condesce’s clawed hands stroked through Karkat’s hair. He didn’t know what was worse, the sight before him or the fact that he could hear Karkat purring. Then the Condesce’s fingers wrapped around Karkat’s throat, her claws digging into his soft skin, and Dave felt his heart skip like a broken record. The Condesce grinned, knowing that she had him. “Down, bitch,” she said.

Dave’s hands never shook, but he held his sword in a white-knuckled grip as he lowered himself to his knees. The Condesce shook her head, tightening her grip on Karkat until he wheezed. “Drop it,” she said. Dave did as he was told, and his sword clattered deafeningly against the tiled floor. “Good bitch.”

She scooped Karkat up in her arms, carrying him as easily as a child, or a kitten. He curled up in her grasp, his head pillowed against her chest. He showed no sign of fear that she had come so close to ripping out his throat, although he did watch Dave with wide eyes as she sauntered closer to him, drew her foot back, kicked Dave hard in the head so that he slumped, helpless, to the floor.

Dave lay motionless, his face mashed against the ground. There was a nasty, bleeding bruise blossoming across his forehead, but he was a god; he’d heal. Karkat knew that his mistress had been merciful; she could have knocked his head from his shoulders. His death would have been heroic. Still, the way the Condesce stalked toward him was distinctly predatory. Dread twisted, heavy in Karkat’s gut. “Don’t hurt him,” he pleaded.

The Condesce set him on the bed. Karkat clung to her, forcing her to pry his hands away from her clothes before she could move away. “Please don’t hurt him,” he said again, although there was nothing he could do to stop her, and in fact he had no right even to ask. It would be well within her right to slaughter Dave just to prove to Karkat once more that his desires were meaningless. She did not do that, miraculously, but the dread Karkat felt did not ease.

She knelt beside Dave, rolled him over, admired his handsome face; the bruise was already healing. His expression was slack, almost peaceful, Karkat could almost imagine Dave was sleeping, head pillowed in his lap. It was a remnant of the life Karkat had left behind, and although he knew better, he couldn’t help but long for it now. There was still a small, scared part of him that wanted nothing more than to have Dave sweep him up in his arms and carry him to freedom, to go back to the person he had been when his greatest concern was picking apart the trauma of his grubhood with Dave at his side, doing the same. He wasn’t that person anymore, and the most he could hope for was that Dave would be allowed to stay by his side in his new life, as he assumed his rightful place as the Empress’s beloved servant.

The Condesce pulled on Dave’s eyelids, laughed, loud and mocking. “He’s your match!” she said, and despite himself, that made Karkat feel better. Dave was his match, not just in the color of his eyes.

“What are you gonna do to him?” Karkat said. His voice was uncharacteristically quiet.

“Ya bein’ awfully fuckin’ pushy tonight, damn!” the Condesce said, and Karkat cowered at the annoyance that had crept into her voice. It wasn’t enough to be dangerous, not yet, but he wouldn’t dare push his luck any further. “What is he, ya little matesprit?”

“Yeah,” Karkat lied. “That’s right.” It wasn’t right. He and Dave had never settled in any one quadrant. He loved Dave in every quadrant, all at once, and although he had been trained to adore his mistress as well, his love for Dave had never waned.

The Condesce stood, her head tilted thoughtfully to one side. Karkat held his breath, terrified that at any moment her claws or her weapon would be buried in Dave’s throat. He bit down hard on his tongue to keep from begging, lest he try her patience more than he already had.

“Ya know who he reefminds me of?” she said, her voice honey-sweet and contemplative. “Little upstart human, way back when. I always did mean to mako him my pet. Humans are so fuckin’ fragile, though. At the time I didn’t know how to take him out without killin’ him. Shame, he woulda broken so pretty for me.”

After a moment’s thought, she bent down, wrapping her hands around Dave’s chest, and lifted him up. His head lolled forward, and his limbs hung limp before him. A whine tore itself from Karkat’s throat, and he gripped the bedsheets to keep from reaching out for him. Even still, the way his mistress looked at Dave caused hope to twist in his chest, hope that only grew as she turned toward him with a wide, sharp-toothed grin.

“Scoot over, babycakes,” she said. “Make room for ya new playmate.”


	2. The Empress's Playthings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rescue did not go as planned. Is there still hope for our Knights-turned-damsels-in-distress? Is their no escape from their new lives as the Empress's playthings?

When Dave woke, it was some time before he realized that anything was wrong. The first thing he saw was Karkat’s eyes, familiar red and soft with fondness. A little smile tugged at his lips, and Dave couldn’t help but smile back. “Hey,” Karkat said.

“Sup?” Dave said back. His head ached, throbbing painfully with each beat of his heart. He wondered if he was getting sick. He wondered if he could talk Karkat into wearing an ironic sexy nurse’s outfit while he made Dave soup and mother-henned over him until he was better. Dave was in enough pain, in fact, that it took several long seconds for him to remember that he hadn’t seen Karkat in months.

No, that wasn’t true. He had seen Karkat once, chained in the bed of Her Imperious Condescension. He had botched the rescue, and now…  
Dave’s arms and legs were spread, chained to the four corners of the royal pailing platform. These weren’t the flimsy decorative manacles that held Karkat, either; they were taken straight from the dungeons of Derse, designed to keep a struggling prisoner trapped until his torment was ended, most likely by death. Dave jerked, then thrashed, his muscles straining, but his bindings held fast.

“Hey, hey!” Karkat said, smoothing his palms over the sides of Dave’s face. Dave went still, his eyes wide and mouth pressed into a thin line. His shades were nowhere to be found. His breath came too fast, and it was only his practice at keeping his cool that kept him from hyperventilating. That, and the calm that Karkat seemed to radiate, despite the situation they were in.

“That’s it,” Karkat said. “Relax. You’re going to hurt yourself if you keep that up.”

“What the hell and fuck,” Dave said.

“I know. I know, it seems crazy, and maybe a little fucked up, but don’t freak out. Everything’s fine.”

Despite himself, despite how obviously everything seemed to be not fine, Dave believed him. He took a few slow, deep breaths until his heartbeat slowed to a more sedate pace. He was encouraged by Karkat’s approving purr, his hands scratching through Dave’s hair. Finally, Karkat leaned down, planting a sweet kiss on Dave’s lips. Dave sighed, his limbs going loose and relax, no longer straining against his chains. His headache was already fading. He still didn’t know what was going on, but so long as Karkat seemed to think everything was alright, Dave trusted him.

“Ain’t that the sweetest coddamn thing I ever saw,” said a familiar, leering voice. Dave went rigid, making a startled sound against Karkat’s mouth. He knew, then, that everything was not alright, far from it.

Dave watched with horror as Karkat sat back on his heels and cast a fond glance elsewhere in the room. There Her Imperious Condescension waited, watching her boys coo and croon over each other in a pretty show just for her. Her hips swung as she sauntered over to the bed, leaning over it to get a closer look at her bound prize. Not for the first time, she sized Dave up, savoring the sight of him like he was a treat for her to devour. He met her gaze unflinchingly, despite the fact that his heart felt like a frightened rabbit’s in his chest.

“Before we get this ship started,” the Condesce said. “Ima lay down the law. You’re the time-hoppin’ one, right?” She didn’t need to wait for an answer. “Well, if ya manage to wriggle out of those chains, with or without ya cheatin’ magic powers, ya cute li’l matesprit here is gonna die screaming.”  
Her grin widened as Karkat made a pathetic sound. Dave’s expression remained impassive, but there were a few tells if one looked closely; the crease between his eyebrows, the clench of his jaw. Both of her little pets were terrified, and that was just how they should be. Why wouldn’t they be terrified of her? They were all hers, and they would live and die by her command.

The Condesce pressed a claw against the underside of Karkat’s chin, tipping his head back. He seemed to take comfort, at least, that she hadn’t killed him yet, although he remained wisely aware that she could do so anytime she chose. One thing was for sure, however; she didn’t want to kill either one of them. They might not have been the swanky Alternian slaves she had enjoyed in her old life, but she could make do with a pretty, captive human and a little mutant troll that delighted in groveling at her feet. This was going to be the most fun she’d had in ages.

“Now that that nasty business is outta the wave,” she said. “We’re gonna have some real fun, just the three of us.”

There was an eager light in Karkat’s eyes, and horror dawning in Dave’s. They really were so precious; the Condesce wanted to eat them both up. Instead, she hooked her claws in Dave’s collar and dragged them down over his chest, shredding the soft red fabric with ease. Dave made a strangled sound, his cheeks going splotchy and red with embarrassment, but she hardly noticed. She was busy admiring the tight muscles of his chest and abdomen, the way they shifted and strained as he fought his restraints. He couldn’t seem to hold still, and that was just fine with her; there was nothing better than a squirming pet.

Karkat too was enjoying the view. He made an appreciative sound, low and pleased at the sight, and Dave’s flush only darkened. “Karkat, Karkat,” he said. “Come on, man, you know this is wrong. We have to…” To what? Dave was chained down, and Karkat didn’t stand a chance against the Empress. They couldn’t run, they couldn’t fight, couldn’t do anything but lie there and take it. Or, in Karkat’s case, do as he was told.

“The Empress can do as she pleases,” Karkat said, reciting a belief that had been engraved upon his thoughts. “I know it’s fucked up, but you might as well relax. Try to enjoy it.”

“You know what he likes, don’t you, boo?” the Condesce said. Her thumbs rubbed teasing circles in the grooves of his hips, making him jerk in clumsy, abortive motions as he tried to get away. He stared off at a corner of the room, pointedly avoiding either troll’s gaze. His expression was impassive, but he couldn’t hide the redness in his cheeks, or the humiliation in his eyes. Karkat, however, only seemed encouraged by his Mistress’s praise. He squared his shoulders proudly, meeting her gaze with fondness in his countenance.

“I do,” he said, only just hiding a proud smile. “Don’t let the poker face fool you, he’s so easy.”

“Karkat!” Dave said, his voice strained. His hands were clenched into fists, and he could not fully hide the mortification in his voice.

It was too late for Dave’s dignity to be saved. The Condesce gave Karkat’s ass an affectionate smack. “Get to work,” she said. “I wanna hear this buoy moan.”

“Oh fuck,” Dave said as Karkat bent down to close his lips around one nipple and his fingers around the other. His tongue and fingers worked in unison, moving in teasing circles until Dave was biting back frantic moans. The enthusiasm Karkat showed could not be feigned. He was truly, sincerely delighted to have Dave here, to be allowed to love on him and pleasure him as he wished. Never mind how he was doing it for his Mistress’s benefit; it was only right that he did as she pleased. It was so kind of her to command him to do exactly what he already wanted.

Of course, Her Condescension gave commands for her own pleasure, and she was quite enjoying himself. Karkat was cute enough, if one tilted their head turnways and thought optimistically. But Dave, bound, flushed, and straining as Karkat worked him over, was a beauty to behold.

The Condesce found that her fingers were drifting toward her nook, but that wouldn’t do at all. Why bother touching herself when she had two lovely pets here to do it for her? Karkat was always available, but Dave was tied up and so very fuckable beneath her. She simply had to get her bulge in him as soon as possible. Fortunately, there was nothing he could do to stop her.

Dave had not been truly helpless in a very long time, certainly not since he had ascended. He was brilliant in combat and a god of time, but despite his competence with his aspect, he was not in control. Time was a strict mistress, even more so than the one that held him now. He could stop any of this from happening but doing so would doom the timeline. More importantly, it would leave this Karkat to suffer without him, without any hope of rescue. Dave would be saving one Karkat at the expense of another, but although it might seem like a fair exchange. But every thought in his mind rebelled when Dave considered what his boyfriend would go through in his absence. Dave would doom himself in an instant to stop this, but that was not an option.

The Condesce unfastened his wrists from the bedposts and held on tight. She felt him struggle and strain, strong for a human, but ultimately powerless in her grasp. Dave was dragged to a sitting position, jostling Karkat off of him, and the Condesce wound the chains around his arms and waist until his wrists were pinned tight to his sides. The chains were locked in place once more. Dave watched her with the wide-eyed wariness of a cornered animal, dreading what she had planned but helpless to do anything to stop it.

She wasn’t looking at his eyes, however, but his pretty, plush lips, parted as he gasped for breath. Karkat was staring as well, his eyes blown wide with lust. He was chirring frantically, a sound only heard by matesprits and the drones; his hands pawed at Dave’s hips, wanting to keep going but unsure if he had permission.  
The Condesce decided to give both of them a treat. She truly was a benevolent, merciful mistress. She flipped Dave over on his stomach, making him grunt; his head wound up in her lap, his legs draped over Karkat’s. “Get those pants off a’ him,” she said, making Karkat croon in delight.

“Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck,” Dave said.

Karkat dragged Dave’s pants and boxers down over his hips, revealing a perfect, plush ass that the Condesce wanted to sink her claws into. Karkat beat her to it, kneading at Dave’s plush rump. Dave bit down hard on his lower lip but failed to contain a wanting groan. The Condesce needed to hear more of those sounds, and who better to coax than out of him than his broken matesprit?

“You wanna fuck ‘im, babycakes?” she said. Karkat brightened, his eyes filled with hope.

“Holy shit yes please let me…” He began to babble and beg, his claws digging into Dave’s hips. The captive Knight’s breath came in ragged gasps, but the Condesce was willing to bet that he at least had a half-chub trapped between his body and the bed.

She gave Karkat the go-ahead, and he nearly tripped over himself scrambling out of his clothes. He dragged the sheer garments out of the way, revealing his thick cherry-red bulge, something that the Condesce had initially been repulsed by but was growing more and more fond of.

“Karkat,” Dave said. “Karkat, wait—!” That wouldn’t do at all. Karkat was broken, but not so broken that he would completely ignore his matesprit’s pleas for him to stop. That could be easily dealt with. The Condesce rifled through her sylladex until she found an accessory that she often used on Karkat but would work just as well on her new toy. The ring gag was fastened between Dave’s teeth, keeping his mouth nice and open and turning his protests into sweet little moans. Most importantly, it meant he couldn’t bite down. The Condesce pressed two fingers into his mouth, both to taunt him and to see how it would feel. He glared up at her with a fire in his striking red eyes but could not resist.

Then Dave’s eyes rolled back as the tip of Karkat’s bulge pressed into him. He might have been out of practice, but he took his boyfriend’s bulge nice and easy, spreading open as the wriggling tendril burrowed inside. It stretched and burned, just a little, but he knew what was coming next. His cock was half-hard as it rubbed against the silky smooth bedsheets, and they were only getting started.

Karkat sank into Dave with the frantic enthusiasm of one who hadn’t achieved human ass in months. His bulge had barely been touched in that time—he was his mistress’s loyal fuckbucket, making his bulge unnecessary—and Dave felt nothing short of divine. The feeling was mutual; Dave has missed his mate dearly, and he couldn’t fully resist the feeling of Karkat fucking him open. Maybe if he closed his eyes he could imagine it was just the two of them, that Karkat had tied him up and was fucking him hungrily and possessively, because of course Dave was all his; there was no one else Dave wanted.

Karkat’s bulge curled against Dave’s prostate, and the gag did nothing to muffle his needy croon. The Empress cooed, and Dave’s eyes flew open. Her hand caressed the side of his face; her thumb traced his lower lip. He shook his head, thrashing against his bonds. But the chains held fast, and Karkat clutched his hips, and there was nowhere he could go, nothing he could do (one option remained, but of course that wasn’t an option, not really).

The Condesce spread her legs, exposing the long pink curve of her bulge. Dave could only watch with horror as she wrapped her bejeweled hand around it and guided the tip into his mouth. He tried to jerk away, but her other hand fisted in his hair, holding him fast. The long tendril curled against his tongue, coating it with salty fluid, wriggling toward the back of his throat. Dave only just had the presence of mind not to gag, although he thought bitterly that choking on her bulge would be neither heroic nor just. The Empress’s grasp tightened, and Dave didn’t struggle as she dragged him in.

With Dave’s face buried between her thighs, the Condesce tipped her head back and sighed. His throat was hot and slick around her, enough to make her nook quiver. Maybe she’d try his absurd human cock next. Maybe she’d leave him tied up with a toy up his ass, unable to cum until that stoic façade cracked and he started babbling for mercy. Maybe she’d make him watch while she fucked his matesprit into the platform.

Maybe she’d do whatever she damn well pleased. For now, she’d take her sweet time appreciating Dave’s mouth and throat and the show as Karkat used his matesprit for his pleasure. She could see by the way he shuddered that Karkat’s bulge was thrashing with wild abandon. Judging by the way Dave kept moaning, he was hitting one hell of a sweet spot as he did so. Dave seemed to think his sounds was muffled by her bulge, but it wasn’t nearly enough. She heard everything, and it was transcendent. She should have gotten a human a long time ago. She never should have killed those human upstarts. She should have kept them, slowly breaking them down until they too were her mindless fuckpets, addicted to her bulge and her attention. She had killed that other Dave, and she had killed the Sufferer, but that didn’t matter any longer, now that she had these two, and she meant to keep them for as long as they kept being so entertaining.

When the deed was done, the Condesce rolled out of bed, slinking off to the ablution block. Dave slumped against the bed like a puppet with its strings cut. He felt like a used tissue, wadded up and tossed out, but she was far from done with him. Deep down, he knew this.

Gentle hands rolled him over on his bed, wiped the sticky genetic material from his face. Karkat looked down at him with love in his eyes. Dave averted his gaze. A part of him was almost grateful for the gag, because what could he say? Karkat too was uncharacteristically silent, wordlessly stroking his mate’s hair.  
Dave couldn’t bear it. He made a pitiful sound that was not a sob. Dave wouldn’t cry, hadn’t cried without meaning to in years. He kept a tight lid on that shit. The last time he cried, in fact, had been in front of Karkat, but that didn’t mean he was going to break down now, not when his boyfriend felt like a stranger.

“I know it’s fucked up,” Karkat finally said. “Really, I do. But you have to understand, this is how it’s supposed to be. This is how I’m supposed to be. She’s my Empress, and I’ll be whatever she wants me to be. Do you understand, Dave?”

Dave didn’t, and was glad for it. He knew that if he ever understood, it would mean that all hope was lost, for both of them.

Karkat leaned down, kissing Dave’s open mouth. Despite himself, Dave let his eyes flutter shut, let a sigh escape his lips. Karkat seemed to take this as encouragement. “We’ll be okay,” he said. “We’re together, aren’t we? Isn’t that kind of her, to let us be together?”

When the Condesce returned, Karkat began to purr, rattling and sweet, and Dave couldn’t help but take comfort in the sound. She crawled onto the bed and slumped against the pillows with a luxuriant sigh. Karkat curled up against her side. Dave was dragged into her arms. They were beautiful, the two of them, as much as an alien and a mutant could be, and a perfectly wonderful pair of playthings. More importantly, they were warm and pliant against her; Karkat broken into loyalty, Dave broken into despair. It wasn’t long before the Condesce started to purr as well, for the first time in a very long time, and when she dragged her claws through Dave’s hair, he didn’t fight back.

A short while later, a pair of burly carapacians came in, dragging Dave to his feet and marching him out of the suite. Karkat sat up, baring his teeth. “What the grubshitting fuck do you think you’re doing?” he snapped. “Where are you going with—” Before he could finish that sentence, the Condesce was scratching through his until he calmed down.

“I’m the one who called for ‘em,” she said. “Untrained pets gotta sleep in the dungeon.”

Karkat’s anger melted into the most pitiable expression the Empress had ever seen a troll make. “Is that really necessary?” he said. “He did so well, can’t he stay with us?”

His pleading was cute enough that the Condesce wouldn’t scold him for making demands. “Aw, don’t worry, babycakes,” she said. “You’ll sea ‘im soon enough.” She dragged her gaze over Dave, her eyes settling on his bare ass as he was hauled away. “I ain’t done with him just yet.”

Elsewhere, the Sylph of Space met with her denizen. The dire situation, explained.

The Genesis Tadpole was relinquished. The trap, set.

Her Imperious Condescension departed from the palace. The bait, taken.

Dave found himself in another set of chains, fastened to a sturdy steel ring in the stone wall. He could, of course, free himself by leaping far into the future or the past, but fear kept him in the present. Fear of dooming the timeline. Fear of dooming Karkat. He remained where he was as the seconds ticked by, an unrelenting beat that he was never not aware of. Although it felt like ages, Dave knew that it was not very long before another Dave appeared in his cell.

“Hey,” the future Dave said.

“Sup?” said Dave.

“What are you still doin’ here?” the future Dave said. “The Batterwitch dipped. Karkat’s waitin’ for someone to sweep him off his feet. Also, check your sylladex.”  
Dave did. In it was a new set of god tier pajamas, repaired and ready to be equipped. The bare stone remained uncomfortable, but not nearly as uncomfortable as when he was buck naked.

Future Dave cut through Dave’s chains, then handed over his sword with a sarcastic bow. Dave stood, pulling his sleeves down to cover the angry red welts around his wrists. They’d heal soon enough. He did not often relish the feeling of a blade in his hand, but at that moment he did.  
Elsewhere, the Empress dueled with seven gods fighting for the fate of the infant universe, and more importantly, their captive friends.  
The tyrant was slain. Hope, restored.

With quickened breath and a bloodied sword, Dave returned to the royal suite. Karkat sat up with wide eyes as Dave entered. “What did you do?” he said, his voice strained.

Dave didn’t answer. Instead, he capchalogued his sword, threw his arms around Karkat’s waist, and kissed him hard. Karkat’s shouts became a pleased croon, and when the kiss broke, he was quiet, a dazed smile tugging at his lips.

Dave looped an arm under Karkat’s knees and lifted him up in a bridal carry. Karkat yelped as his feet rose off the ground but clung to Dave’s shoulders instead of trying to get away. “Dave. Dave, you insufferable horse’s ass! What do you think you’re doing? You can’t just come in here all aloof and badass and expect to sweep me off like a wilting goddamn damsel, shit-ass! Put me down, put your fucking poker face away, and tell me what the actual fucking hell is going on!”

  
Dave did one of those things; he broke into a grin, although it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’re gonna be just fine,” he said, and the two of them vanished with a flash of light and the sound of a clock’s chime.


End file.
